shame of living

Today I got my bi-monthly journal of the American Association of Suicidology, Suicide and Life Threatening Behavior. My cousin came over and my mother said to him that I like reading that kind of material. I do but on another level, I feel embarrassed. I know I am taking it personally because it is personal. I attempted suicide many times over the years and each time I fail it is not only a failure, but it also is an embarrassment to my ego. I have the scars to show of the self injurious behavior I have had over the years. Again, an embarrassment of my illness. I don’t know why I feel this way. Or maybe shame is another reason I feel embarrassed. I don’t know. But it hurts. It hurts knowing that I failed and I am still here. I don’t know why it does but it hurts like hell. I have not told anyone about the shame that I feel other than my blog and maybe my therapist. There is so much I tell her that I sometimes forget if I tell her about the shame of living. I know people who have attempted don’t like to talk openly to the person in front of them about their story of attempt. I don’t think I can speak openly in front of a crowd of people and tell them I have attempted and failed and now I feel like a complete and utter failure. That I want to try again and succeed just to try to cheat death. But I have people that rely on me to be here and though I sometimes resent them for it and even hate them for it, I still continue living. I don’t enjoy living. It’s a constant struggle for me for one thing to another. It’s more of a hassle living than anything. Between the chronic pain that I feel physically to the chronic pain I feel emotionally, why bother? But I do because I don’t think I can ever again act on my feelings. I lost what is called lethality. And until I get it back, I am still going to be living this so called hell called life.